17|SEVENTEEN

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This week, Zaviyar decided to spend the Sunday lethargically by staying back at home and away from the Meraki's. The week had been long and had taken him so much to reach from one end to the other and now that it was over and the overbearing pain wore off a little, he was able to see things through and while on it, he realized he needed a day off to reset and refresh. The round the clock schedule became his lifestyle so much that even sleeping late on a Sunday made him feel like he was losing something. He just tried to sleep until mid morning like a normal person but sleep became far-fetched when his father decided to send someone to knock on his door and bring him to the breakfast table.

Dressed in obvious new tracks, Zaviyar climbed down the stairs and pocketed his phone- a frown, now tattooed on his glabella. Ali Dawar sahb had gathered his entire family, even Noorul Ain was there. They chattered and munched on the breakfast happily as if they weren't a dysfunctional family just about a few years ago. The thought of now going back to being normal froze his blood. His parents being not there for each other and the children was the best thing they could have done for their family because clearly their parenting was nowhere near effective.

Little Hala jumped out of her chair upon seeing him approach them and jumped into his arms, latching onto him like a baby kangaroo. His eyes earned back the little twinkle that he carried for the first time in the last four days and five nights. Ahlah, though skeptical, didn't say much and ate her eggs and sipped on her chai. Climbing down the last of stairs, Zaviyar walked over to the breakfast table and sat down with Hala still on his lap. The heat of multiple gazes pierced through his bones as he wriggled uncomfortably in his skin, trying to shake away only to end up with his niece getting off him and going to sit on the couch.

He spared his father a glance before shifting his attention to the breakfast entirely. However, Noorul Ain's presence was more known than ever, her presence was so prominent that even away from her by a couple of chairs, he felt her right vibes moving up to him and making his spine steel. The looks his father had been giving away wasn't something he could swallow- the eyes cautioning him as to not mess up. Though Ali Dawar sahb seemed to have been relieved after hearing that his son proposed to her niece for marriage, he knew he couldn't delay for long, knowing his son was an advanced twisted version of himself. He tore his gaze off before they went to stay on his mother who had been feeling absolutely remorseful for jumping into it and hurting her son, only the other woman in his life hurt him more than anybody else ever had.

"We are going to have to announce your wedding." Yahya Ali Dawar brought his family's attention upon himself, waiting for them to continue. Ahlah's eyes shot up to her brother to find him blank and emotionless- the look that rarely carried.

Ahlah and Bazia begam waited for him to say anything, to rebel or to fight it off but the man just shrugged off as he bent over to reach for a cup of tea, "Like I said yesterday, I'm not going to throw myself a grand wedding nor will I allow you to do so."

"As long as you marry the girl I chose for you," Ali Dawar sahb  took his time to glance at his niece as he uttered to make sure she wasn't heeding, "And your nikah will be held on twenty fifth." The old man's words were collective and calculated because one wrong word would lead his son to retaliate and it wasn't something he wanted with his niece around. It garnered nothing and Zaviyar shook his head, agreeing to it.

"I would rather have my nikah in the villa or in the nearby masjid." He said and watched as his father's jaw ticked in annoyance. Ahlah's wedding was nothing even closer to what he would have arranged as one of the richest men of the country. The son's wedding was the only thing he had hoped to show him off as the doting son. Who was he kidding, his son wouldn't bat an eyelash if he were to force him for anything.

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